


A Weighing of the Scales

by Bioluminescent



Series: Eden [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Daemons, Alternate Universe - His Dark Materials, Angry Avengers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Phil Coulson takes no shit, Protective Avengers, Steve has his sassypants on, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 10:12:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7432154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bioluminescent/pseuds/Bioluminescent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having a snake daemon isn't always easy. This is how the people in Clint's life react, both bad and good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Weighing of the Scales

**Author's Note:**

> Great thanks to Pixes for spurring this to be written.
> 
> Trigger Warning for sibling abuse.

Clint should have known it was a mistake to show Barney Sig the moment she settled. But all he could think about was how proud Barney would be that his little brothers daemon had finally settled at his fifteenth birthday.

Looking up at his brother and his daemon through blood crusted eyes and dust, all he could think about was how wrong he was.

Blood bubbles on his lips as he coughs to clear his throat and Barney frowns down at him. Just as his brothers name passes his sticky lips, Clint grunts as Barney delivers a swift kick to his already aching side. Struggling to breathe through the pain Clint does not notice when Barney reaches down to grab Sig behind the head.

At the rush of utter hatred and disgust that Barney's touch brings all Clint can do is shiver and whimper on the ground as Sig lashes her tail as much as she can in the tight grip. Kamryn rustles her wings at the intrusion to their bond before snapping out with her beak at Sig's tail. Shearing pain rushes through their bodies and they both scream as the very tip of Sig's tail drops to the ground twitching.

Barney grins at their obvious pain, watching with Kamryn by his side, blood dripping down his knuckles as he gathers up the serpentine body in his hands. Ignoring his brothers twitches at his feet Barney considers the daemon writhing in his hands.

“You know what Clint? I'm not actually surprised that she settled as a snake.” Sig swears at him before shrieking as he squeezes the end of her tail, fat drops of blood falling to the sandy ground. “Considering the way that dear old Dad tried to teach you a lesson about snakes, I guess your stupid little head decided to disagree with him.”

Clint reaches out with one hand, desperately reaching for Barney's pant leg. Barney sneers down at the hand leaving slick trails of blood on the hem of his pants, shakes him off, and stomps down on the hand with his boot. Screams fill the air and Clint curls around his leg, trying in vain to shove his foot off. With a sickening crunch, Barney grinds his heel down on bone as Kamryn squawks happily in the background.

“So, I'm just giving you a little taste of what it will be like for you out in the wonderful world out there,” Barney gestures expansively with Sig limp in one hand, the other sticky with blood. “If you survive tonight I mean.”

Curled around his broken hand, Clint coughs out, “Trick-”

Interrupting with a mean laugh, Barney continues to chuckle, wiping away tears with his hand. Blood streaks his cheekbone as he drops his hand to unravel Sig from her ball. Snarling, Barney crouches to Clint's level. 

“You really think that your mentor is going to want anything to do with you with a daemon like _this_?” Shaking Sig in Clint's direction, Barney shakes his head incredulously and glances at Kamryn over his shoulder. “You are an unnatural anomaly to this planet and let me tell you this, I would gladly snap your neck right now to get rid of your taint on this planet.” Straightening, Barney glances at Sig as she weakly snaps her jaws at his thumb. “Instead, I think I'll let you suffer, baby brother. Just to watch the way you scream.”

In the distance a truck horn honks, breaking the sinister air around the sandy clearing. Kamryn squawks at Barney and he nods in agreement. “I'll leave you here.”

And with that, Barney drops Sig on the bloody ground in front of him and walks away without a backward glance. Kamryn stalks at his side, her feathers ruffled up in the cold desert air, occasionally snapping her beak at Barney as he wipes the blood of his face with a sleeve.

Clint reaches out with his good hand and drags Sig towards him. His vision spots black as the pain grows with every little movement, and without the energy needed to cry, he simply curls his body further around his daemon.

~^~

Trying to ignore the prickling between his shoulder blades that told him someone was watching him, Clint blocks the fist coming towards his face and kicks the trainers legs out from under him.

An angry huff behind him led to Sig tightening her coils around his chest where she was hidden in his vest. Turning on his heel, Clint faces his very first Shield handler.

Agent Kilpatrick glares at him, her dark eyes flicking over his body and the insolent position he had relaxed into. The short woman was by no means anything to sneeze at and Clint watches warily as she got closer to their spot on the gym floor. Having been assigned to her, she had taken one look at his file and his overall scores and declared them wrong. Which ended up with her watching his entire reevaluation. 

She was an experienced Shield agent and handler, but her attitude towards him and his abilities rubbed him the wrong way. Sig grumbles as they thought of their cold handler in comparison to Agent Coulson. Kilpatrick never let them just wander into her office and relax like Coulson did. 

Finally reaching the gym floor from the observation deck above, Agent Kilpatrick crosses her arms and stares at the trainer standing next to him now.

“I don't know why you have this job, Agent, because let me tell you, you are horrible at it.”

Given the fact that she was a raging asshole did not help Clint to like her. Nor the fact that her daemon was a monkey. 

Clinging to her back like an ugly little backpack, the Babakoto bares its teeth at Clint where he stood as Agent Kilpatrick tore the trainers spine out his mouth. 

“And how the bloody hell are you supposed to be training not only him but his daemon as well when there's no daemon in sight?”

The trainer opens his mouth to reply but she cuts him off with a scoff and a sneer before turning her attention to him. Clint feels the beginnings of anger forming deep in his chest as Sig peers through his vest at the drooping tail of the trainer's dog daemon standing next to him. 

“And you,” She points a finger at Clint. “Where on earth is your daemon? She is supposed to be here for training as well, and guess what, she isn't here. And without her here we cannot finish the reevaluation to get you cleared to start missions.”

Clint stares blankly at her, his hands in his pockets as she continues to rant. Her monkey shifts to whisper something in her ear and slowly, a grin grows across her face.

“Fine. No daemon. I'll just take over here instead.” She glances dismissively at the trainer. “You're dismissed.”

The moment the trainer clears the h mats, Agent Kilpatrick throws herself at Clint.

Sig hisses softly as Clint merely steps to the side to avoid her stout body, tripping her as she passes. As she rolls, her daemon jumps up onto the observation deck to watch, his eyes following every move that Clint makes. Kilpatrick whips around and stares at Clint. He shrugs.

Raising one eyebrow Agent Kilpatrick steps up to his chest. “Fine. Be that way. Don't accept me as your handler. Find someone else.” Clint makes no move to say anything and taking that as agreement, she continues. “But let me tell you this, stop acting like you're the hot shot when you've only been here for five months.” Now it is Clint's turn to raise an eyebrow as Sig shifts in his vest. “You're a junior agent, you don't account for anything right now. And if you do, you're just a grunt.”

Clint shifts and tilts his head to stare down at her. “Well, people may not like me for the skills I have, but at least they like me for not being an asshole.”

Nostrils flaring, Agent Kilpatrick punches Clint across the face. Knowing she was about to do so, Clint did nothing to stop her or Sig.

In a flash, Sig pops right out of the front of Clint's shirt collar, her neck flared to its maximum fan size, fangs bared as she hisses straight into Agent Kilpatrick's face. Shrieking, Agent Kilpatrick stumbles back, tripping over her own feet as her daemon jumps down in front of her, baring his teeth and barking loudly.

“No wonder you're just a grunt! You have a fucking snake as a daemon! Devil!”

Frowning down at her, Clint shakes his head before turning to the air vent set in the wall. A quick twist of the wrist and the grating fell off with a clatter. Ignoring Agent Kilpatrick's protests from behind him, Clint drops quickly into the darkness.

Easily familiar with his surroundings, Clint moves through the bowels of Shield quickly and quietly, Sig hissing softly to him as he went. By the time he crawls out of the vents in an empty hallway across from Fury's office, the anger has slowly smoldered away into hurt and bad memories.

Waving a hand at the receptionist and her protests, Clint barges right through the door to Fury's office. Phil and Bell are sitting in a chair in front of the desk, Maria mirroring his position, both holding tablets. Fury glares at Clint from his seat at his desk, Nipun angrily clacking his beak at the interruption.

“What the fuck do you think you're doing, Agent?”

Biting back a growl Clint stalks up to the desk and braces his hands on it, leaning into the Director's personal space.

Voice just above a harsh snarl, Sig rests her head on his shoulder and watches. 

“If you think, that with your uneducated Agents and handlers that I will be able to work here, then you have either a very bad idea of what goes on in your agency or a severe misunderstanding of the personal views of your agents, Director.” Clint stands up, his right hand curled into a fist, the scars pulling white against the bone. 

Clint turns around and looks at Phil. “If you need me, I'll be at home.” 

Bell stands up, her tail bottling as Fury starts to say something back to him, but he slams the door closed halfway through his reply.

Staring at Phil, Maria shakes her head. “'I'll be at home?' Really, Phil?”

“What the fuck just happened here people?”

Without looking up from his tablet, Phil answers his Director, “I told you Kilpatrick would be a bad fit. Guess that means you're buying lunch.”

~^~

When Agent Coulson had told him to follow his hunch towards the Black Widow to try and recruit her, Clint had not expected this.

This being dancing around a ballroom with the beautiful redhead in his arms, her daemon resting on her bare shoulders like a fur wrap. An ear piece rests in his ear, keeping him constantly in touch with his handler and the support team. 

Natalia leans in to whisper in his ear, “And where is your soul right now, Hawk?”

Looking down at her, Clint reaches across the bond, and gets a flash of smugness as Sig tells him what she has in her mouth. At the change in music, Clint mindlessly reacts and leads Natalia easily through the masses on the floor. As he brings her to the edge of the room, he leans down to her ear, his breath ruffling her hair as he answers quietly.

“Currently in the vents with your entire ledger in her mouth.” 

The mongoose hisses against her neck as her eyes go wide. “Impossible.”

Shrugging, Clint looks up at the crowd around them. “If you say so.”

One man across from them at the drink table is staring straight at them, and Clint tenses. Without Sig on his shoulders, he is an anomaly in a room filled with feathers, and fur, and talons, and teeth. People who pass by them glance in their direction before quickening their pace at the sight of the dangerously beautiful woman and her counterpart with no visible daemon.

A crackling in his ear drowns out the grumbling from the mongoose and Clint gratefully listens to his handler over the comm. “Hawkeye, you have incoming of around forty, alarms went off ten minutes after the flash drive was removed from the computer and our tech department was unable to stop the initial alarm. ETA five minutes. Evac is scrambling to make it to the rendezvous in four hours.”

Clint glances down at Natalia like she said something funny and smiles. She smiles back as he answers.

“Alright, Coulson.”

She glances at him from the corner of her eye as he subtly guides her towards the closest door with a hand on the small of her back. “We have to leave I take it?”

A sharp nod is all he can get out before a hand lands on his shoulder. Stiffening and whirling around, Clint notices the way Natalia keeps her sleeved arm close to her side, the tip of a knife glittering like jewelry in the light.

The old man stares at him and drops his hand. “I must say, you sir are causing a large amount of tension in this establishment.”

The peacock next to him bobs his head, the colorful tail feathers twitching as he meets the eyes of the mongoose.

Clint raises one eyebrow, feigning confusion. “I'm sorry?”

The man laughs loudly. “Don't be! These tossers need to be shaken up once in a while!” He continues to laugh as the earpiece crackles again.

“ETA one minute, Hawkeye.” The nervousness in Coulson's voice is obvious and Clint hides grimace behind a smile, Natalia tensing further behind him as he looks at the door over her shoulder significantly.

“Is she shy?”

“What?” Clint's brows beetle as he looks back at the man.

He nods his head at Clint's breast pocket. “Is she shy?”

Clint lifts a hand to gently touch his pocket, a smile spreading across his face as the door across from them begins to open. “Oh yes, she is very sensitive to the light.”

Already, the air around them from the aristocrats and politicians relaxes as they see him touch his pocket fondly. 

Clint and Natalia merely grow tenser as the door bangs open and armed guards rush through.

While the old man is distracted, they slip through the doors beside them as the guards start shouting orders over the cacophony of wails and screams of confusion coming from the crowd.

“Outer security has been upscaled significantly, Hawkeye. Please bring in our new asset in one piece.”

Clint grins as they make their way slowly to the maze of hallways in the mansion. Natalia grins back, already slipping on her fabled Widow's Bites, her mongoose slipping gracefully to the ground.

“Let's see how well you play in the dark shall we?”

Three hours later, in a Shield safehouse, Sig uncurls herself from her spot on the counter and stares at Clint and his new companion. Natalia blinks at the sight of a fully grown King Cobra on the table in front of her. The mongoose fluffs his hair up slightly as he rests on her shoulders.

“Took you long enough.” Clint reaches out with one arm and she coils herself up the suit jacket to rest on his shoulders.

He nudges her head with one fingertip, ignoring the way she lightly bites it. “Where is it?” 

She nods her head to the place she had been resting and he picks up the little flash drive before handing it to Natalia. “Here. It's yours, Natalia.” 

Blinking at him in disbelief, she reaches out and takes it from him. Moving around the safehouse, Clint does a quick perimeter check as Sig mutters to him under her breath. By the time he makes it back into the living room, Natalia has sat down on an armchair, her daemon curled up in her lap as she turns the flash drive in her hands.

Shrugging, Clint makes his way into the kitchen, intent on making himself some food. “Hey, are you hungry, Natalia?”

“It's Natasha.”

Clint freezes, glancing up at her through the kitchen. “What?”

She smirks. “My name is Natasha Romanoff.” 

“I'm Radimir.” The mongoose rumbles with a harsh accent, without moving from his spot.

Clint nods his head. “Clint Barton.”

“Sigrun.”

Natasha nods, and goes back to staring at the drive in her hands. She stands, Radimir grumbling as he is dumped from his spot, and walks into the kitchen, brushing past Clint and Sig from where he stands. A flip of the switch, and Natasha neatly destroys the drive in the garbage disposal with a loud clunk and the sound of metal shrieking against metal.

A satisfied grin finds its way across her face, and Clint only shrugs and moves to make another sandwich.

~^~

Tony had just left the Tower with Pepper in tow to deal with Capitol Hill once again when Clint flops down on the couch.

Sig slithers her way down his leg to curl around Bell on the floor, flicking her tail at a snoozing Radimir. Natasha lay on a love seat, her eyes half mast as they watched a quiet movie. Leaning in to give Phil a light kiss, out of the corner of his eye Clint sees the elevator door open and Steve stalk out.

Shoulders a stiff line under the fabric of his uniform, they all watch as he angrily makes his way towards them, Sappheire baring her teeth at his side. Expecting him to come and sit on the couch with them, try and relax after whatever it was that pissed him off so much, Steve instead walks over to the large windows and starts to pace, muttering under his breath.

Natasha sits up to get a better view as Steve does not slow down, his muttering rising and falling in a strange way to Clint's ears. Just as they start to get worried, Phil takes the initiative and calls to him.

“Steve? What's the matter?”

Unexpectedly, Sappheire growls loudly, causing the daemons curled on the floor to shift uneasily. Clint frowns as the usually fun loving and relaxed daemon flicks her tail and snaps her teeth at Steve's fingers as they brush her head.

Natasha gets up from her spot and walks over to where Steve and Sappheire have stopped, glowering out the window. Hips swaying, she gently puts a hand on his shoulder. Blowing out a sigh through his nose, Steve nods, running a hand through his hair before walking over to the couch and sitting down. Sappheire sits right against his knee as he leans back and rubs his hands roughly over his face. Meeting their concerned faces he sighs again.

Phil prompts, “Steve?”

Steve drops his eyes to his lap. “Tá sé ach...dia fuath liom an fear.” 

Natasha chuckles. “Steve, we don't speak Gaelic. Although it wouldn't surprise me if Phil did.”

Steve looks up, startled, then he laughs, relaxing. “Sorry, I wasn't thinking clearly.”

“Well I never do that and I still make sense.” Clint grins as Phil shoves him gently, shaking his head.

Radimir snorts. “Keep telling yourself that, Clint.”

Sig flicks her tail at his nose, ignoring the way he half heartedly snaps at her tail. “Hey! I make perfect sense most of the time, I don't know what you mean by that.” 

Bent over laughing, Steve shakes his head, Sappheire wagging her tail at their antics. Natasha moves to sit next to Steve, stepping over Sappheire on her way. Stroking the short hairs at the back of his neck, a faint smile on her face, Natasha looks down at him.

“Feel better?”

Gasping, he leans back and nods. “Yeah.”

Clint shifts, draping his arms over Phil's chest and resting his chin on his shoulder. Phil lightly smacks his face with the pen in his hand.

He nods at Steve. “You want to tell us?”

Opening his eyes, Steve lightly shakes off Natasha's hand from stroking his hair and sighs, looking down at Sappheire, “Yeah.” He sighs again, his shoulders tensing up again. “Yeah.”

Clint steals Phil's pen easily despite protests and throws it at Steve's chest, bouncing it onto Saphheire's back. “Hey, none of that.” Natasha rubs a hand down his back and Steve shifts in his seat. “If you want to tell us you can, we're not forcing you. We were just concerned over the angry Steve that we so rarely see that's all.”

Steve snorts. “I just hide it better than you, Clint.”

Clint meets his eyes, “You don't have to hide it.”

Nodding, Steve tilts his head against the back of the couch, the long line of his throat working for a moment before he speaks. 

“I really fucking hate Fury sometimes.”

Phil shrugs. “I have to fight the instinct to shoot him every time one of you does something stupid.”

“I hide plastic spiders in all his plants.”

“I made that scratch on Fury's desk because I was mad at the way he was overworking Phil and Bell.” They all look at Clint. “What?”

Natasha laughs. “You are such a child.”

Nodding in agreement Clint noisily kisses Phil's cheek. “And you love me for it.”

Steve shakes his head and they all refocus their attention on him. “No, it's not any of that. It's the fact that he expects me to be able to trust him when he works for a spy agency of all things! No offense, by the way,” Phil shakes his head, a frown on his face. “I can't work as a team leader without the trust and information I need to be able to run the mission completely and as safely as possible for the team. I can't keep working like that.”

Phil leans forward. “Fury is always like that. And I admit that he does need to change how often he is like that with his operatives, but I'm sure it will all just blow over Steve.”

He nods, sighing. “And there's nothing I can do to make it any better than it is.”

At the look of utter acceptance on Steve's face, Clint frowns, because that should never be on the face of the American People.

The elevator opens with a soft ding behind them and Bruce walks in with Amani trundling along beside him on the floor. Looking up he pauses halfway across the room.

“I'm sorry. Am I interrupting something? I can go.” Natasha shakes her head with a warm smile that he returns hesitantly and with that, Steve completely relaxes into the couch.

“No, Steve just has the sudden urge to punch Fury in the face again.”

Laughing, Steve flings a pillow uselessly in Clint's direction as he dodges it easily. 

Bruce nods. “Well who doesn't?”

They all turn their attention back to the movie as Bruce curls up in an armchair, Amani curling up in his lap. Sappheire makes her way to the pile in front of them on the floor, tucking herself behind Radimir and Bell against the couch, leaning forward to touch noses happily with Sig. Clint watches as Sappheire makes no move as Sig loops one of her coils around the daemon's legs.

“Hey, Steve?”

He glances up at Natasha's soft voice.

“Hmm?”

“Why don't you have a problem with Sig?”

He frowns fiercely at her. “What do you mean? She's great, why wouldn't I like her?”

“I meant with her being a snake.”

“Oh!” Steve looks relieved. “Why should I? That stupid stereotype that all snake daemons are bad is idiotic nonsense that lead to the deaths of thousands of civilians and soldiers through cold blooded murder because of the fear that they were somehow connected with Hitler. I hate it and think that, considering I saw what it did firsthand, people should be reeducated with their wrong views about snake daemons. Most of the people I have met with a snake daemon have been wonderful, self sacrificing people, so I don't really care either way.”

Clint blinks. Watching him from the corner of his eye, Phil bites back a smile as he sees how Clint's cheekbones slowly become dusty pink. With a satisfied nod, Steve turns his attention back to the movie and Phil nudges Clint with his shoulder to kiss the tip of his nose.

~^~

“So Dernier went up to the general, and asked him if he was religious. The general said that he wasn't and Dernier told him that by the end of the war, if the sight of me with a ripped uniform, soaking wet, holding a rifle didn't make him believe in God, he'd eat his cigarette.”

Hiding a smile, Natasha asks, “So what did you do?”

Steve smirks, taking another bite of his apple before continuing. “I went and stood next to Dernier, flexed at the general, and asked him where the showers were.”

Coughing, Clint scrambles for paper towels to mop up his spilt milk as Natasha laughs next to him, Phil allowing a chuckle to pass his lips. Steve snickers as Clint glares at him, hunching over his cereal defensively, a cough occasionally disrupting his eating. 

Brandishing his spoon in Steve's direction, Clint manages to cough out, “You are not as innocent as you appear.”

Innocently Steve shrugs and tosses his apple in the air, Sappheire whuffing beside him where she's laid out on the floor. “It's not my fault you decided to believe the Captain America formed by the media when I was frozen.”

“And that's his own fault.” Phil laughs, ducking away with his arms over his head as Clint threw his crumpled napkins at him.

Saphheire flicks Steve's ankle with her tail. “You missed the best part.”

Raising an eyebrow at Steve, Natasha flicks her fingers expectantly, “Well?”

Steve looks down at his daemon, frowning. She rolls her eyes, sighing deep in her chest before pushing herself up into a sitting position.

“I can't believe you're pretending to forget when after you asked the general that, Bucky came up behind you and proceeded to cut off the rest of the scraps left on your torso.”

“Oh god,” Steve groans, covering his face in his hands. “I can't believe he did that to me.”

Teeth bared in a smile, Sappheire continues, ignoring his protests. “Well, the general and everyone else in the camp enjoyed you picking him up over your shoulder and dumping him in the mud.”

Clint nods. “Well, who wouldn't?”

“You are all incorrigible.” Shaking his head, Steve shifts against the counter, his running shirt pulling tight across his chest.

Sappheire pokes him in the leg. “See? This is why nobody can walk straight when you work out.”

Glancing down at his clothes, Steve pauses. Natasha puts her feet in Clint's lap, looking extremely smug as Steve takes a deep breath. Openly staring a the show in front of him, Clint nudges at Phil to do the same. 

“Unlike you, I actually have things to do that do not include staring at Steve right now.” His pen taps on the paperwork in front of him in example of his work.

Clint raises an eyebrow, leering at Phil. “That's never stopped you before.”

Disgusted, Phil looks at Clint as Steve peeks up at them from under his eyelashes. Meeting Phil's eyes, Clint grins repentantly as a clear blush forms on Phil's cheeks. 

Without looking away, Clint points a finger in Steve's direction, “You are a dirty, dirty man. Never change.”

Steve smiles as he goes in for another bite from his apple, his lips coming away slick with juice as the crunch echoes in the kitchen. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

As Phil's blush deepens, the elevator opens and Tony shuffles out, dark circles under his eyes as he mutters unintelligibly under his breath, Lachesis fluttering her wings every few words, limp on his shoulder. Making a beeline to the coffee pot, Tony closes his eyes as he drinks straight from the carafe, ignoring Steve's “Really Tony, we have cups for that.” with experience.

“Agh,” Looking around with tired eyes, Tony cradles the coffee against his chest with both arms, sidestepping Steve's attempt to steal it back. “What day is it?”

“Tuesday.”

Tony narrows his eyes at Phil. “Which Tuesday?”

Natasha shakes her head and Clint props his head up with one fist, watching the altercation in front of him. 

“Tony...” Steve starts before Tony glances up at the ceiling.

“Jarvis, please assist me from these heathens. Which Tuesday is it?” Clint hears Jarvis sigh, and he did not think that an AI could put that much distaste into a sigh, but what do you know.

“It is currently the thirteenth of the month, sir.”

Head snapping up, Tony stares at Clint. “Did you just say the thirteenth?”

“Yes, sir.” Tony winces.

“Don't you use that sexy voice with me, Jarvis.”

Clint glances at Phil, who shrugs as Jarvis replies. “Never, sir.”

The pile of daemons at their feet shifts as Sig untangles herself from Radimir and Bell, moving up Clint's leg to flick her tongue at his extremely soggy cereal. Tony stiffens against the counter his face shuttering closed with Lachesis buffing a wing against his head as Sig loops herself over Clint's shoulders. 

“You know what, look at the time, I have a thing I have to fix down, uh, downstairs.” Motioning over his shoulder with the coffee pot, Tony backs out of the kitchen slowly before practically running to the elevator. The silence that follows is only broken by Clint sighing and stirring his cereal.

Steve looks at Clint and Sig. “What was that about?”

Rubbing a hand on Clint's shoulder, Natasha glares in the direction of the elevator. “He obviously has a problem with Sig.”

His eyebrows dropping in understanding, Steve throws out his apple with a thunk, Sappheire growling quietly under her breath. “I would've thought he was smarter than that.”

“Some people aren't though.” Staring down at his cereal, Clint feels Phil put a soft hand on his thigh and gently squeeze. Sig curls tighter around his neck, smoothing the hair at the back of his head with one coil.

“If I may?” They all look around as Jarvis interrupts their silence.

“Sure, thing Jarvis.” 

“Thank you, Captain Rogers.” Jarvis sighs again. “I believe the reason behind sir and his behavior had more to do with his personal experience and attachment to a friend who had a snake daemon rather than the myths behind them.”

Steve frowns. “Obadiah?”

Shaking his head, Phil leans forward. “No, it was Dr. Yinsen.” At their looks of confusion, Phil clarifies. “He was the fellow captive that Tony was isolated with due to the Ten Rings. Yinsen also had a snake daemon.”

Realization passes across their faces and Clint leans back on his stool. “Then why did he react like he needed to get as far away as possible?”

“Because it reminded me of Yinsen and Neziah.”

Tony walks into the kitchen, returning the now empty coffee pot back in its spot carefully. He leans against the counter and crosses his arms, Lachesis fluttering to the counter next to him and hopping from foot to foot anxiously. A muscle twitches in his jaw and he looks at the floor.

“She was the first snake daemon I had known personally, so it will take a while for me to get used to Sig without thinking of her and the-” Tony swallows thickly, one fist clenching and unclenching. “-experiences, we had with them.” He shrugs. “No offense meant.”

Clint nods. “Not a problem.”

And with that, breakfast continues.

~^~

For a week Bruce and Amani avoided being seen in Shield. After missions they would leave for the Tower immediately, and they would go in for consultations as quickly as possible. Each time they went to Shield, Tony and Lachesis would accompany them.

After Steve asked why they were so tense, Bruce smiled thinly and answered, “Well General Ross is a special guest at Shield this week, and Shield isn't going to make many accommodations for me and my past so there's nothing I can do except try and avoid him.”

Immediately after, an almost honor guard followed Bruce and Amani in Shield. Whether it was Phil and Bell by his side, or Natasha with a cup of tea and a smile, or Clint and Sig following him in the vents, they were never alone and never faced the General.

One time in the middle of the week, both Tony and Steve were joining Bruce on a little field trip to the bowels of Shield to take a look at some new alien tech that Shield had seized from a Hydra compound just the day before. They were making their way up to the cafe for a break when Steve stiffened next to Bruce, both him and Tony taking Bruce by the arms and steering him towards a rarely used hallway. Sappheire nudged Amani in the same direction as Lachesis fluttered her wings uneasily. 

Only catching a glimpse of the unforgettable lumbering beast coming near them, Bruce let them steer him out of view. Tony mutters something to Steve before turning back down the hall to intercept the party with his arms spread and a tight smile on his face.

“But, he shouldn't-”

“Bruce, let him, he knows what he is doing.” Steve glances down the hall as Tony is absorbed into the tour party for General Ross, his entire left side empty of people as his daemon walked next to him.

With their backs turned, they do not see as Steve ushers Bruce down the hall and out a side door unknown to most people working in the building. Bruce watches as Steve walks towards a seemingly random car and places his hand against the window. With a cheerful click, the car opens its doors for them and Steve motions for Bruce to get in.

Once the doors closed and the outdoor noise became significantly muffled, Bruce turns to Steve as he pulls out swiftly.

“So whose car is this out of curiosity?” Amani squirms in his lap before settling down in a tight quivering ball.

Looking both ways before turning out onto the street, Steve glances at him out of the corner of his eye as Sappheire looks out the darkened back windows. “Tony has these littered around the city and in some other cities, too. Only for Avenger use as the locks are keyed to our handprints and alert him if we use one and exactly where, too. Fully armored, with repulsor technology to enable flight, it can be used a a submersible if need be, and can withstand a nuclear blast. It also allows us use of the cloaking technology, a direct line to Jarvis and the Tower, emergency supplies including weapons, food, clothing, and a heavily stocked first-aid kit, and an option to a direct line to Shield for backup.”

Bruce raises his eyebrows. “Isn't that a little overkill?”

“Not when Clint, Phil, and Natasha have needed to use them multiple times before when missions have gone sour.” Steve shrugs, calmly moving in New York traffic easily. “We have access to these if need be, and so far they've been pretty helpful. He even has a few overseas.”

Nodding, Bruce looks out the window at the receding view of Shield, lightly stroking Amani down the back. “Why would he do that?”

Steve stares at him. “Yes, why would Tony want to protect those that he loves in the way that he thinks he is only capable of by providing safety in what might be strange or dangerous places?” As he pulls into the intersection, Steve glares at the taxi attempting to cut him off and leans on the horn, opening the window and yelling a few choice words at the angrily gesturing driver.

“Well, I guess you have a point, sassypants.”

Looking innocently at him, Steve shakes his head before turning his attention back to the road. “There is a reason why the fate of America rests on my shoulders.”

Amani snickers in Bruce's lap and Bruce lets out a smile, looking back at the Shield building in the distance, tension bleeding from his shoulders the closer they get to the Tower.

Eventually, the avengers cannot avoid a confrontation with General Ross forever seeing as he is everywhere in Shield for a solid week. But as Tony always insists, they did a pretty damn good job keeping it from happening until the last possible minute.

It is after a surprisingly difficult double mission of protect New York City when all shit hits the fan. 

Tony is sprawled in his chair, complaining – over Fury debriefing them – about how they just had to fight doombots and a giant squid from destroying a bridge, why can't they just go home so he can cuddle with Steve, as Steve barely blushes where he is slumped in his own chair, when the door to Fury's office bangs against the wall.

Everyone jumps and Fury ignores how Natasha so clearly went for her gun and Tony already has the gauntlets to his armor whining in his hands and Lachesis tucked against his chest when General Ross steps slowly into the room.

Steve slowly shifts closer to where Bruce is in the corner, shield held in front of him as Sappheire barely covers her snarling with a low rumble of noise. Mjolnir merely opens her wings slowly, the sound of feathers rustling and large tendons creaking strangely threatening in the quiet room.

“General Ross, what a surprise that you didn't stay with your assigned agent.” Fury drawls from his seated position at his desk. Clint does not miss the slight shift of his weight and the movement of his arm underneath his desk to where his concealed rifle is strapped. Nipun clacks his beak, glowering down at the General's daemon. She grumbles at the group, the bear's relaxed stance not fooling anyone for a minute.

Glaring, General Ross takes a step into the room, ignoring the obvious bristling of the Avengers. “Yes, how kind of you to assign an agent to a trusted member of the US Army.”

Fury raises one eyebrow, looking thoroughly unimpressed. “Well, we did want to keep you alive for this little tour of our facilities, so excuse us for worrying about your wellbeing when you can so clearly read into dangerous situations.” He gestures around the room still filled with tense, slightly angry Avengers. “So, ignoring how you so clearly interrupted something you should never be a part of, what do you want now?”

General Ross huffs, taking another step into the room and looking long and steady around the room. He takes in the various weapons leveled in his direction and the many cuts, stitches, bandages, and Phil's sling. “Oh yes, such a dangerous situation I find myself in right now.”

“If you don't see this as a dangerous situation for you, then you seriously misunderstand these people.” Nipun clacks his beak again, a soft laugh coming from him as Ross glances sharply in their direction.

A sneer forms on General Ross' face, mirrored on his daemon's face as she glares at everyone in the room openly. “I wouldn't call the creatures in this room people, Director.”

Amani curls tighter into a ball on Bruce's lap and Steve glowers next to Thor, a menacing look coming from the fully uniformed body of Captain America, not to mention the slowly healing bloody cut on the side of his face and the setting sun casting a reddish glow over the room. General Ross' eyes settle on Clint and Sig's coils over his shoulders. 

He smirks. “And least of all something that has a snake as a daemon.”

Sappheire rumbles deep in her chest as Steve shifts, the light rolling harshly over the surface of the shield in his hands. Tony moves in front of Steve in an unsubtle attempt to lessen the tension in the room.

Before anyone can do or say anything, Phil – who had been sitting quietly at the table and doing his paperwork – neatens his papers, carefully places his pen on top, and stands up.

“If you want to keep your position as a 'trusted member of the US Army,' then I would advise you remember who exactly you are talking to, General Ross.” The room watches as Phil walks around the table to rest a hand on Clint's shoulder, Sig shifting around his hand restlessly as Bell saunters across the table.

Ross snorts. “Oh, and you think that you can just threaten me like that, Agent Coulson?” Natasha relaxes slightly as Phil smiles at the General. Everyone else tenses impossibly more as a certain glint takes residence in Phil's eyes, his smile a touch too sharp to be innocuous. Sadly General Ross does not take the hint and continues. “You have no right to speak to me like that. Especially considering the kind of _people_ you like to think of as Earth's Mightiest Heroes. If I was in charge here, this little stint would have been a one time thing and all of you would be locked up in prison for the shit you actually do.”

“And if you did that, then you yourself would be dead already.”

General Ross raises his eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

Phil smiles again. “Didn't you hear me? You would most certainly be dead by now, General. Especially considering the kinds of enemies that you seemed to collect like some people collect stamps in your time in the army. So while we would all be in a prison, or most likely already broken out or dead knowing your tendencies to experimentation, you would be torn apart by all of them in a feeding frenzy rivaling starving hyenas.”

General Ross splutters. “You – how did you – those records are sealed! I could have you arrested here and now!”

Phil looks calmly back at him. “There is no such thing as a sealed record, General. Just something a little bit more difficult to get into. I assume you mean the files of your illegal human experimentation? It's not my fault you made them so easy to get into for a supposedly classified venture.”

Bruce pales behind Steve and Thor, Steve ramrod straight and glaring at General Ross as Tony shifts in front of them. General Ross glances uncertainly at the door next to him, his daemon slinking behind his legs and baring her teeth at the room at large.

He splutters through another half sentence before Phil goes in for the kill.

“You have already lost the X-Men as an ally for the army, as well as the Fantastic Four and most likely Dr. Strange.” Phil leans closer. “Try not to alienate the only large group who would be slightly willing to save your useless ass, if only they could have the chance to destroy you first.”

General Ross stares at him, eyes wide before turning to Fury. “You can't let him talk to me like this! I am--”

“Frankly, I do not give a shit what he says right now, if only because I'm thinking the same goddamned thing.” Fury rolls his eye in Ross' general direction. “Now get the fuck out of my office.”

At the obvious dismissal, General Ross attempts to fight back. “You cannot do this to me, I have power and allies that you would not believe.”

Lachesis cackles from Tony's shoulder, propping her body against his head to prevent falling off. Tony rolls his eyes, disgusted. “Yeah, and I've got allies and power you wouldn't believe too, but mine are a lot more legal than yours, and I have more money to persuade them.”

Glaring at Tony, Ross fights against the Shield security called to remove him from the premises. “Money can't do everything, Stark.”

Quirking an eyebrow, Tony leans against the table, the gauntlets shrinking to metal disks he flips in the air, “Oh, you'll find out sooner or later that it can.” Flicking a wrist in a sloppy wave, Tony slumps into a seat. “Ciao, darling.”

The door closes softly on General Ross' protests with a nod from one of the agents. Silence falls on the room.

Tony opens his mouth, but Director Fury interrupts him. “Just, leave. Relax, whatever I don't care, just go home before he leaves Shield custody.”

Frowning, Tony is about to protest when Steve settles his shield against his back and rests his hands on Tony's shoulders, one finger brushing lightly against a black and white wing. Everyone ignores how Tony immediately relaxes in Steve's hands, his protests melting into soft moans. Natasha walks past them, patting Steve on the shoulder, Radimir nowhere to be seen as she gets Bruce up an walking towards the door. 

Director Fury watches as they all eventually leave his office before calling out, “Make sure General Ross leaves here with all his body parts attached, Agent Romanoff.”

All he gets is a lazy wave over her shoulder. Sighing and shaking his head, Fury leans back in his chair as Maria enters his office, her tablet in hand and a scowl on her face.

~^~

Later that night, when everyone had dragged themselves to bed – or in the case of Tony and Lachesis, dragging Steve and Sappheire – Clint rolls over and stares at Phil.

“What is it?” Phil mumbles into his pillow, satisfyingly warm with fur and scales brushing his chest under the covers.

Clint wiggles closer to him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before answering, “You didn't have to protect me today.”

Opening his eyes, Phil looks at Clint sharply. “What, with the squid or Ross?” Mumbling something incoherent, Clint tucks his head underneath Phil's chin. “Clint?”

Refusing to leave the conversation where it is, because when they wake up in the morning it will just be an awkward weight between them, Phil shifts them on the bed so that Clint is snug against the side of his chest and their daemons are grumbling somewhere under the covers. Pressing a kiss to the top of Clint's head, Phil rubs a hand down his back, relishing the feel of warm skin under his palm.

Clint traces the scar on the front of Phil's chest gently, his breath warm against his neck. 

“Clint?”

“You didn't have to protect me against Ross today.”

Ducking his head down, Phil places soft kisses along the line of his cheekbone, sucking gently on the underside of his jaw and pushing Clint onto his back as he sighs at the pleasant scrape of teeth down his neck. “Did it occur to you that I did it for Sig?” Phil breathes his words against the hollow of Clint's throat.

Clint stills on the bed from where he had been arching against the delicious friction that Phil had brought, dragging Phil's face up to his to kiss him hard on the lips. Feeling Phil smile into the kiss, Clint in turn flips Phil onto his back, pinning him to the bed. Phil moans loudly as Clint shifts his hips, feeling a tail flick against his calf from where Sig is moving up the bed. 

Dropping his head to rest against Phil's, Clint presses their lips together again as Sig nudges Bell to rest across Clint's legs, her coils snaking under and around one of Phil's arms where Clint had it pinned. “I love you.” Those words are repeated as Clint continues to arch his hips against Phil's, mouthing along the points on his neck and jaw that make him gasp and moan. Sig whispers them along with him as she tucks her thickest coil around Bell where she lay panting. 

Once they have both cooled down, the sheets flung off of the bed, Phil presses a sleepy kiss to Clint's temple.

“I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> The google translation for Steve's Gaelic is: "It's just...God, I hate that man."
> 
> For clarification:
> 
> Clint- Sigrun, King Cobra  
> Phil- Belladonna, Clouded Leopard  
> Natasha- Radimir, White-Tailed Mongoose  
> Bruce- Amani, Honey Badger  
> Steve- Sappheire, Rhodesian Ridgeback  
> Tony- Lachesis, Black Billed Magpie  
> Thor- Mjolnir, Harpy Eagle  
> Fury- Nipun, Bearded Vulture  
> Barney- Kamryn, Shoebill Stork  
> Maria- Finian, Serval  
> General Ross- Asian Sun Bear  
> Agent Kilpatrick- Babakoto  
> Yinsen- Neziah, Western Hognose


End file.
